


Mission Objective: Christmas Presents

by Pardon_the_egg_salad, sariane



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Shopping, Co-Written, Crack, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Holidays, Humor, M/M, Shopping Malls, we kind of just locked ourselves in my room until we finished it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pardon_the_egg_salad/pseuds/Pardon_the_egg_salad, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sariane/pseuds/sariane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve makes Tony go Christmas shopping with him. In public. In an actual <i>mall</i>.</p><p>Tony gets hives just thinking about it. </p><p>Warning: There may or may not be handholding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission Objective: Christmas Presents

**Author's Note:**

> Sarah/sariane: We promised to get this done for Christmas and kind of failed? Sorry? I hope you enjoy anyways. (Also, I’d like to thank sailorcarson for going Christmas shopping with me.)
> 
> Allison/Pardon_the_egg_salad: Help, we’ve been writing for twelve hours straight (Tumblr browsing included). HELP.
> 
> S: you think she’s kidding...
> 
> This fic was written with the note “it should be set post-avengers-2 and we should just assume that everyone is alive and happy and living together at stark tower,” and that’s probably the best explanation for the setting of this fic. Spoilers for the characters featured in Captain America: The Winter Soldier.
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> -Swearing  
> -Reed Richards

There were only three reasons Tony would wake up before nine AM on a Saturday morning. One, Doctor Doom had taken over Manhattan at this ungodly hour, and Clint had woke him up to punch robots. Two, Steve wanted early morning sex-- and Tony was always willing to oblige a naked, willing Steve Rogers. Three, Steve convinced Tony with sex to do something he would later regret. 

This was definitely an instance of number three. Which was probably why Tony was wearing a red-and-green sweater (with spangles!) adorned with snowflakes and jingle bells and walking into a shopping mall. Steve owed him big time. Tony decided that he’d make sure to have Steve make it up to him today. Tonight. Or maybe today, since they _were_ in a shopping mall.  After all, that’s what dressing rooms were for, right?…

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Tony. There are kids around.” Steve said, frowning as he surveyed the crowd of children running around the mall. Tony grinned impishly at him, only deepening his resolve to make Steve participate in dressing room sexytime.

“I can't believe you talked me into this," Tony muttered, pulling down his sunglasses to glance around the crowded shopping mall.

They were going to be recognized. They were going to be on the front page of every newspaper and magazine and Tumblr tomorrow, wearing ugly sweaters, attempting to hide in hats and sunglasses and scarves, and --

"Holding hands?!" Tony said. "Seriously? We're in public, and we're grown men, Rogers. Not high school sweethearts." Steve tried to hide his smile but failed.

"That's why they'll never think it's us," Steve laughed. He was so full of it. "You'd never go Christmas shopping. It's the last thing they'd expect.”

Tony scowled.

“It is the last thing anyone would expect,” he muttered. “Why can’t we go shopping online, like everybody else?”

“There’s no heart in that, Tony,” Steve said. He looked over the crowds of stressed out and harassed moms, dads, and toddlers with a sparkle in his eye. Tony bet he saw hardworking, happy Americans with his Captain-America-Vision. “Finding a gift for someone you care about, picking it out yourself, buying it, wrapping it… that’s special.”

Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Capitalism at it’s finest,” he grinned, and this time, Steve was the one who rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“So, where should we start?” Steve asked, looking closely at the colorful light-up mall map. “How about starting with Pepper? The mall has Nine West and Prada. I bet we could find shoes for her, there.” Tony made a face of disgust, horrified at the image of beginning his day with shoe shopping. Shoe shopping. He loved Pepper, but even that was too much to handle.

“Okay, not shoes,” Steve said, holding his hands up diplomatically. “How about… a science store? It’s for kids but, hey, I bet you can find something in there to entertain you.”

Tony grinned. _Perfect_. Steve would probably take enough time picking out gifts for him to upgrade up couple of the robots they were bound to have on display. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“Alright, science store it is, then. We can pick up Bruce and Jane’s gifts there.” Steve said, squeezing Tony’s hand tightly and giving him a sweet smile. Tony melted. He allowed Steve to drag him through the crowds of shoppers, into a small shop towards the back of the mall, aptly named Einstein’s Toybox.

When they walked into the store, Tony’s mouth dropped open, and all he could think was _where was this place when I was five years old?_ The shop was filled with robots of all shapes and sizes, models of atoms and strands of DNA, small cars with solar panels on the roof, and tool sets for even the youngest future engineer.  Boxes of microscopes were stacked to the ceiling, along with miniature lab sets and on a table, Tony spied a kid-sized toy model of his arc reactor, a toy that was meant to cling to kids’ shirts, so they could look like Iron Man. It was accompanied by toy gauntlets and helmets.

“Hey, look at that arc reactor!” Steve said, picking the box up and admiring it. “It’s nice to see your face plastered over everything instead of mine, for once.”

Tony shushed him quickly. “Hey, don’t give away my cover,” he whispered. “Be cool. You put the arc reactor down, and I’ll just casually walk over to the robot section.”

“Causally, right,” Steve scoffed in a whisper. “You mean, run over and squeal like a little girl? Tony, this store is all your five-year-old dreams come true. I bet when you were little, when you went asleep on Christmas Eve, you had visions of blowtorches dancing through your head,” he teased.

“Hey, better than a Daisy Red Ryder BB gun, soldier,” Tony said, nudging Steve’s arm. Steve gave him a look. “Uhh, I’ll just assume you didn’t understand that reference,” Tony said. “Don’t worry, they show _A Christmas Story_ all the time on TV. Like, 24 hours a day on Christmas.”

“I know what an air gun is,” Steve sighed. “Bucky never shut up about them.”

“You’ll shoot your eye out! You’ll shoot your eye out!” someone sang in an annoying refrain behind him. Tony turned, and caught sight of the last person he wanted to see him in a Christmas sweater, a person with very little self-restraint and a mouth as big as his ego.

“Reed Richards, what are you doing here?” Tony hissed.

Reed wore a smug grin over his thick black turtleneck, probably at the sight of the two of them in their absurd Christmas gear. Tony instantly wanted to punch the stupid expression off his face, but Steve was standing next to him and he would have disapproved. So, Tony decided to play nice… for now.

“Same thing as you, apparently,” Reed said easily, eyes trailing judgmentally over Tony’s Christmas sweater. “I’m Christmas shopping.”

“Why do you have to shop, _here_? Steve and I were here first. Get your own science store.” Tony growled. Okay, maybe the whole ‘playing nice’ thing wasn’t working. It was all Reed’s fault! That pretentious douchebag always got on his nerves.

“You were here first, Tony? Isn’t that rather immature, even for you?” Reed remarked condescendingly. He adjusted his gray slouchy hat on his head, so it showed just a bit of his dark hair. Tony doubted the hat fooled anyone; it didn’t even cover his face.

“This shop isn’t big enough for the two of us. Either you leave or I make you leave,” Tony complained, crossing his arms. Steve tugged on his arm, trying to shush Tony as his voice had risen dramatically.

Reed mirrored Tony by crossed his arms in front of his chest, and said, “Now, Tony, I know you’ve been jealous ever since --”

Steve interrupted him. He stepped in between Tony and Reed as he tried to keep the peace. “Please, Reed, Tony… it’s almost Christmas. This is supposed to be a time of ‘peace on earth, and goodwill to men.’ Can you two not fight for fifteen minutes, and enjoy your holiday shopping?” Tony rolled his eyes.

“ _I_ didn’t start this disagreement. That would be your boyfriend,” Reed sulked.

“Hey, if Reed wasn’t such a pretentious douchebag --” Tony tried to defend himself.

“ _Tony,_ ” Steve warned quietly. “Be good. Now, the two of you are going to get along and stop acting like children, and I’m going to shop for my Christmas gifts. Both of you had better not be fighting when I come back, or else.”

Steve turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of holiday shoppers. Tony drooled a little. Steve had no idea how sexy it was, giving orders in that low, authoritative voice. It made Tony think of commands Steve gave in a very different context. Tony’s brain spurred into overdrive, thinking of how Steve might utilize that voice later…

“Hey, Tony!” Reed said to him, snapping his fingers in front of Tony’s face. Tony elbowed Reed in the side. “Hey!”

“Shut up, Reed,” Tony muttered.

“You weren’t responding! Anyway, I’m going to grab the periodic table mug I came in here to buy. So… Merry Christmas,” Reed said, extending a hand out for Tony to shake. Reluctantly, Tony shook his hand. _Anything to make him go away._

“Yeah, happy Hanukkah and all that. Now, go away. I’ve got robots to play with,” Tony said irritably. He made a beeline for the robots, and began taking apart the first one he got his hands on. “Hmm, let’s have some fun. We can definitely make some improvements,” he muttered to himself, as his hands deftly sorted through the colored mess of wires coming out of the robot’s head.

When Steve returned, carrying a bag that undoubtedly held Bruce’s test-tube shaped tea infuser and loose leaf tea blends (Tesla Chai, Hulk Mint, Einstein Breakfast, and Foster Theory VanillaNut), Tony had already programmed the ROBOT with AI and named him SHORT-T. Currently, SHORT-T was giving an air guitar solo for a group of wide-eyed kids clustered around him in a circle while Tony worked on making SHORT-T a friend. _I’m going to name this one BARR-E,_ Tony thought gleefully.

“Having fun?” Steve asked, giving Tony a wide smile.

“Are you kidding? I’m taking these guys home with me!”

“Tony, you don’t need another robot. You already have Dummy and Butterfingers at home,” Steve sighed, as he tried to be practical. But Tony was resilient against this kind of logic. Reason had no effect on him, especially when he had the power of puppy dog eyes at his disposal.

Tony looked up at Steve with big, pathetic eyes and begged, “Can we keep them, Steve, _please_?”

"No," Steve said sternly, shaking his head.

"But Steve --"

"No," Steve repeated. "No more robots, until you've proved that you can design some that _don't_ have your maturity level." He paused. "And aren't named after your old butler."

"Nice save," Tony muttered.

“Come on,” Steve said as he saw a worker begin to approach them. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed, before pulling a few large bills out of his wallet and placing them next to the robots.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tony said as Steve pushed him out of the story.

“Paying for damages,” Steve muttered, steering him back into the busy mall, “and avoiding a scene. You can’t just tear apart merchandise, Tony, you --”

“Are you running away?” Tony laughed. “‘Avoiding a scene,’ my ass, I never thought I’d see Captain America run away because he’s embar --” He stopped when Steve clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Yes, I am embarrassed of my boyfriend,” Steve sighed. “Especially since he’s determined to act like a teenager today,” he said as Tony licked his hand. Tony grinned as Steve removed it and wiped his palm on Tony’s coat.

“I am not -- Oooh, Gamestop!” Tony said, launching himself towards the video game store with a spring in his step. He heard Steve sigh again behind him and laughed.

“Don’t you have enough video games?” Steve said, catching up to Tony as he strode into the store.

“One, you can never have too many video games,” Tony said. “Two, Clint has been whining about not being able to play the new Animal Crossing for months. I’m getting him a 3DS. Three,” Tony paused, “um, gimme a minute, I’m sure I’ll think of a third option any second now.”

Tony stopped in front of a display of games and picked out a few for Rhodey. He loved these dumb first-person shooter games, as much as he said they were for teenaged boys who ate too many cheetos. Steve stood behind Tony, looking around the store with a scrunched up expression on his face.

“Are you having a 21st century moment?” Tony asked, skimming the back of a game.

“No,” Steve said.

“Then why don’t you pick out a game for Bucky or something?” Tony peeled his eyes away from the games to look at Steve. “Assassin's Creed. Just his thing. He’d love it.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure he would,” he said. “Clint got him to play that -- what’s it called? Just Dance.”

“Please tell me you took pictures,” Tony said. “I need pictures of that. For reasons. Blackmail reasons.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Just buy your games and let’s get on with it,” he said with a fond smile. “We have eight more people on our list.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony muttered, saluting as he got into line. “Received and understood. Mission Christmas Presents is a go.”

“Obey your orders and we’ll see what we can do for you later, soldier,” Steve murmured in Tony’s ear before leaving him to go look at the bargain DVDs, just in time for his turn at the cash register.

“Can I help you?” the bored-looking cashier said.

“I need all the help I can get,” Tony said under his breath before he smiled widely. “Yeah, I’ll take these, and I need a 3DS.”

“We only have one left in stock,” the cashier said, smacking her bubble gum. “Purple. That okay?”

“Perfect,” Tony said. “Gender norms are for losers, anyways.” With that, he passed over his credit card.

Steve was waiting patiently outside the store for him, people watching with a strange expression on his face.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Tony said, stepping up next to Steve. “Or, nickel for your thoughts, really, accounting for inflation.”

“I was thinking about a Build-A-Bear gift card,” Steve said. “For Thor. He loves going there.”

“We have strange friends,” Tony said as they headed down the mall to the Build-A-Bear workshop. Steve headed straight to the checkout, narrowly avoiding getting run over by a small girl clutching a Bucky Bear she had just made.

Tony watched as Steve was flirted with by the woman behind the register. Steve blushed, looking down at his wallet and fumbling with his cash, and Tony thought, _Adorable._

“Hey, aren’t you Iron Man?”

Tony looked down to see a little girl, clutching her Bucky Bear and staring up at him with squinty eyes.

“No, I’m his more handsome twin,” Tony said. The girl stared blankly up at him, unimpressed.

“You look like Iron Man,” she said, hugging her bear. “I didn’t know he had a twin. My friend Billy is a twin.”

“I was just joking,” Tony said. “Tony Stark, Iron Man, that’s me,” he said, grinning. “You’re pretty sharp, kid. Ever thought about being an Avenger when you grow up? I see you like Bucky.”

“Do you think thirty dollars is -- Oh, hi,” Steve said, smiling down at the girl. “What’s your name?” _God, he’s good with kids,_ Tony thought.

“America,” she said. She narrowed her eyes at Steve as he kneeled down next to her to talk to her. “You’re Cap,” she said simply.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Steve said, a twinkle in his eye. “Is that Bucky you have there?” he said, looking at her bear. “Is he your favorite? Is that why you made him? He’s my favorite.”

“I am so offended right now,” Tony said. “Iron Man better be your favorite, kid.”

“No, I made him because _I_ want to be Cap’n America,” she said proudly. “He’s _my_ sidekick.” America stuck her chin in the air, probably in imitation of Steve himself. Tony thought Steve might tear up, right there, in the middle of Build-A-Bear workshop, because of a little kid.

“You’ll make a great Captain America one day,” Steve said finally.

“I know,” she said, then turned on her heel and ran over to her mother.

“Well,” Tony said as Steve got to his feet. “Nice to know our future is in safe hands. I never thought I’d see you break down like that, Cap.”

“I didn’t break down,” Steve said, swinging an arm around Tony’s shoulders to lead him from the store.

“I think I saw a few tears,” Tony said. “Manly tears, of course.”

“This is why you aren’t my favorite,” Steve said, shaking his head. “You’re a menace.”

“Aw, but I’m a cute menace,” Tony said, pouting. Steve snorted.

“Come on, Shellhead,” Steve said, grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him away from Build-a-Bear. “Operation Santa Claus is still underway.”

“Wait, did you just give our little Christmas shopping trip a name?”

“No, I didn’t Tony. Why don’t we just head over to the Apple Store?”

“You did give it a name!” Tony said gleefully. “Like, a real military op and everything. Do you always give shopping trips names? Wait… do you give our _dates_ names? Like ‘Mission: Starbucks’ or ‘Operation Helicarrier’?

“It’s not a date if it’s a mission,” Steve frowned.

“If it ended with making out, I think it should count as a date. I mean, we can’t exactly go out to Olive Garden and hold hands and everything in public,” Tony said offhandedly.

“Have you ever even been to the Olive Garden?” Steve asked with a skeptical raised eyebrow.

“Isn’t that the place with the breadsticks?”

“Tony, I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Steve said after a moment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t eat cheap Italian.”

“I’m sorry all of us can’t be billionaires.”

“I’m sorry you can’t get out of the way,” a teenager said with wide-rimmed glasses and messy hair, that looked as if he had just ran his hands through it. “Can you guys either move it or stop with the hand-holding and let us by? We have gifts to buy too, buddy.”

His girlfriend pushed a strand of her platinum-blonde hair behind her ear and pulled at her own boyfriend’s hand.

“Peter, relax,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him away. “I’m sorry my boyfriend’s an idiot,” she apologized to Tony and Steve over her shoulder. The pair disappeared into the crowd.

“Well, I’m glad _he’s_ not the Hulk,” Tony said.

“Come on,” Steve said with a fond smile, “we’ve got to go to the Apple Store to get Darcy that mobile phone she’s been asking for.” He took Tony’s hand and led him towards the glowing white Apple symbol a few stores down.

“No…” Tony said in abject horror, holding his arms up in defense. “Please tell me we are not going into that dungeon of tiny, shiny, useless electronics? You’re going to give my hard-earned money to my competitors?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘hard-earned’ if Pepper does most of the work,” Steve muttered.

“Why can’t we just buy Darcy a StarkPhone? They’re sooo much better,” Tony whined.

“Darcy’s a loyal Apple customer,” Steve explained patiently. “If you got her a StarkPhone, she’d get Thor to smash it with Mjolnir.”

“Fine,” Tony muttered, crossing his arms. They had reached the Apple store by now. Tony planted himself firmly outside the store. “But I refuse to take one step into that place.”

“Thankfully,” Steve said in slight exasperation, “I’m an adult, so I can go into a store to buy something on my own. Don’t talk to strangers, even if they have candy, okay?”

Tony subtly flipped Steve off as he walked into the gleaming Apple store. Deciding that he couldn’t stand in front of his competitor’s store without insulting them or hacking them through their wifi for very long, Tony started walking down the long hall towards Macy’s. He had made it down the hall and back, before he was stopped by a tap on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” a deep, dignified British voice asked him. Tony spun around, to find a fierce-looking old man with white hair and a polite scowl on his lined face. “I am looking for someone, and I was wondering if you could help me.”

The man was wearing a scarf wound around his neck over a long black trenchcoat, and all Tony could wonder was, _Who the hell is this man Christmas shopping for?_

“Sorry, Gandalf, you got the wrong guy,” Tony said flippantly. The man’s bushy eyebrows scrunched up angrily.

“I’m looking for a young woman,” he said, “blonde, and quite short and skinny -- or perhaps she’s tall today. I can’t recall.”

“Uh, gramps,” Tony said slowly, “usually it’s easier to track down the grandkids if you can actually remember what they look like. Or are you just senile?”

The older man ground his teeth in frustration, and Tony thought he could feel the lightest tug on his belt buckle and wristwatch pulling him towards the man. But it was probably his imagination. After a second, the man must have got himself under control, as the lines in his forehead smoothed. “It’s a yes or no question, young man.”

“Nope. Go bother mall security or something, I’m busy.” Tony waved the stranger away, just as he noticed Steve walking out of the Apple store with a small bag in his already crowded arms.

Without a word of thanks or good-bye, the strange man walked away from him in the direction of the mall’s hub. Tony noticed what looked like an antique chess set tucked under one arm before the man slipped into the crowd. _Could that be…_ Tony thought to himself, then instantly dismissed the thought. _It couldn’t be him; he wasn’t wearing a helmet._

“Tony, who were you talking with just there? I did warn you about strangers, right? You didn’t take any candy from him?” Steve asked.

“The only place I get candy is from you, sugar,” Tony said with a wink, making Steve moan.

“That’s terrible,” Steve groaned, steering him towards Starbucks in the center of the mall. The upscale coffee stand was crowded by holiday shoppers and bedecked with cotton snow and twinkle lights. The tinny Christmas music coming from not-so-hidden speakers somehow managed to be heard over the steady hum of conversation.

“Coffee, thank god,” Tony breathed, before he saw the substantial line trailing from the cashier and looping around the small ‘snowy’ garden in the center of the atrium.

Steve pulled an unwilling Tony into the long line with him, as he threw a dirty look at the shoppers standing in front of him. “Be good. Not all of us can just skip the line,” Steve whispered to Tony.

Tony pouted in reply. Bored, Tony pulled out his StarkPhone and started playing Candy Crush. As he reached the next level, he heard someone singing along softly to Mariah Carey's rendition of “All I Want for Christmas is You.” Tony turned his head this way and that like a deranged squirrel, trying to find the singer.

“I don’t care about the presents under the Christmas tree. I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true! All I want for Christmas is you.”

Finally, Tony realised Steve was the one singing along to the pop star -- a fact he might have realised right away, if Steve hadn’t been standing behind him. “Steve,” he asked gleefully, “do you like bad Christmas pop music?”

Steve blushed. “It’s a good song.”

“It’s a terrible song,” Tony said. “But it’s adorable. You’re like a twelve year old girl.”

“I’m not a twelve year old girl --” Steve started to argue back, until they were interrupted by an announcement on the mall speakers.

“Attention,” a man’s dull voice echoed over the loudspeakers. “Will a Miss Raven Darkholme please come to the front desk? Your grandfather is looking for you. Thank you.”

“I wonder if she’s okay?” Steve wondered aloud, prompting a small eye-roll on Tony’s part.

“She’ll be fine. But I won’t be, if I don’t get caffeine in my system within the next five minutes.” Tony growled, looking back down at his phone.

“I think it’s our turn, now,” Steve said as he stepped up to the counter. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” he nodded politely to the cashier. He picked out two gift cards, one each for Pietro and Wanda. “I’d like to put thirty dollars apiece on these, and I’d like a bag of your Christmas blend coffee.”

“Will that be all?” she said as she rung up the coffee beans they were buying for Jane.

“No, ma’am, could we please have a small hot chocolate and a large --” Steve stopped and waited for Tony to chime in with his order.

“Caffè latte, two extra shots of espresso, and extra whipped cream.” Tony added, eyes never leaving the screen of his phone.

“Please,” Steve said, elbowing Tony in the ribs.

“Oh yeah, please.”

“Excuse me, sir, do you mean a ‘grande’ and a ‘venti’?” the woman asked behind the counter, pulling back a strand of her long, dark curly hair. “Those are our sizes here.” Tony groaned.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but where I grew up it was always just small, medium, and large. I don’t mean to insult you, but I think things are a lot better when you keep it simple,” Steve said in his best Captain America voice.

The cashier seemed to swoon a little. Instead, she took a deep breath and pulled up her sleeves. “Ah, okay then. I’ll just ring that up for you. Your coffee will be ready for you in just a sec. Would you like anything else?” the woman asked suggestively.

“No thank you, ma’am, that will be all,” Steve said politely. The woman managed a flirty wink in agreement, as she rang up their purchases and Tony slid money across the counter to pay for everything. Steve made sure to slip a couple dollars in the tip jar, for which he was rewarded with a thankful smile and more eyelash fluttering than was strictly necessary in Tony’s mind.

“Low blow, boy scout,” Tony murmured to Steve as they headed towards the other end of the counter to pick up their lattes. “You could have at least left her a couple brain cells for the rest of the day.”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole ‘Good ‘Ol Boy’ act. You go all goody-two-shoes and respectful, and they all fall at your feet.”

“You don’t fall at my feet,” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah, well I’ve had more practice. And I’m awesome.”

Steve rolled his eyes fondly at Tony, as he moved in for a kiss. Unfortunately, they were interrupted by the voice of a barista as she announced their drinks. Steve broke away with a shy grin, and thanked the lady as he took the drinks from her.

 When he walked away, he heard a grumble of “Why are the gorgeous ones always gay?”

“Hey, you got a number,” Tony said, pointing at the cashier’s name and digits on the cup. “Why didn’t I get a number? I’m handsome and charming.”

“Well, the cashier,” Steve paused to read the name of the woman, “ _Jessica_ obviously liked me more. Maybe because I have manners.”

“Nah, it was probably the biceps. You could wrestle a cougar with those things.” Tony stopped, to take a long sip of his hot espresso and moaned with pleasure. “Coffee is all things good and holy in this world. Mmm. So, what’s next on the list? The comic book store for Coulson? Victoria’s Secret, hmm?” Tony asked.

“How about Pepper’s shoes? There’s a Nine West on the other end of that hall.”

“Fine, Captain. But we’re stopping at Victoria’s Secret along the way,” Tony said with a suggestive grin.

Steve gave him a heated look full of promise and started walking towards the other end of the mall. Moving through the crowds with relative ease, hand in hand, Tony stopped to look at the displays at Victoria’s Secret with great appreciation.

“Wouldn’t that look good on you,” Tony said as he pointed at a red corset with matching lace underwear. Steve blushed as red as the lingerie Tony was gesturing at.

“Tony, please,” Steve said, embarrassed. “You can’t just go into a woman’s store like that and buy something. It’s not…”

“Not what, huh?” Tony asked, enjoying himself.

“It’s not done,” Steve finished. “Men don’t just buy women’s unmentionables.”

“Really? Is that how they did it back in the golden days, huh, grandpa?” Tony said, ruffling Steve’s hair fondly. “This is the twenty-first century. Guys can --”

Tony would have finished this sentence, if he hadn’t spotted the last person he would have imagined walking out of Victoria’s Secret holding one of those little pink-striped bags. His mouth fell open in shock and he couldn’t form a single word in reply.

“Tony, what did you --” Steve stopped in surprise when he turned to see what had caught Tony’s attention.

“This never happened,” Wolverine said gruffly, narrowing his eyes at the two of them.

“But, what are you --?” Tony said, before Logan blinked once, dangerously, warning him.

“Captain,” Logan said, nodding once. Steve nodded back, and turned with Tony to watch Wolverine disappeared into the crowd.

“Did I imagine that?” Tony said weakly, shellshocked, “because I’m pretty sure I just imagined that.” He looked into his coffee. “Do you think we were drugged while the cashier flirted with you?”

“Caffeine overdose,” Steve managed. “Shared hallucinations. Magic. Should we call Doctor Strange?”

“Maybe the cashier was a SHIELD agent, and this is all some elaborate setup. She did look familiar…” Tony muttered to himself, trying to make sense of it all.

“Skrulls,” Steve said, shaking his head. “It’s gotta be Skrulls…”

“Let’s,” Tony paused for a moment. “Let’s go to Nine West and try to forget this ever happened.”

“For once, I think I agree with you, Tony,” Steve said.

Tony moved through shoe shopping in a daze, still trying to understand what he had seen-- what he was sure he had _never_ wanted to see. They bought a pair of really tall, really expensive red heels for Pepper. Or maybe they were gold? Tony didn’t remember. He was too busy trying to block out the memory of Logan coming out of Victoria’s Secret with that mysterious little bag hanging off one arm. And most of all, Tony tried not to wonder who Logan planned to give the bag’s contents to.

“Tony!” Steve said, jarring Tony out of his thoughts. “Next store, come on!”

Steve handed Tony the bag of shoes, which he grumpily accepted. After all, he was carrying about half a dozen bags, anyway -- _and looking damn good while doing it_ , Tony thought.

“Hey, it’s me!” Tony said, distracted as they walked by a kid’s toy store. He pulled at Steve’s hand, dragging him over to the window to look at the cardboard cutout of Iron Man wearing a santa hat pulled over his mask.

Steve held back a chuckle, saying, “Well, you look very… festive.”

“Let’s get Coulson something here,” Tony said, pulling Steve into the store. Steve sighed, but let Tony drag him into the toy store with all the excitement of a small child.

“Don’t you think this is a little juvenile for Phil?” Steve asked, looking around at the brightly colored action figures and Nerf guns.

Tony stopped in front of a display labeled ‘The Heroes of New York - The Avengers’ and snorted.

“They’re still using my old Mark 42 armor,” he scoffed, flicking at the wire that held Iron Man aloft over the Lego model of New York. “Look,” he said, pointing at a golden-boxed complete set on a high shelf, “limited edition. All of the Avengers, _including_ Hawkeye and Black Widow for once, number 26,937 of 100,000. That’s a thing he’d like, right? Collectable Avengers.”

“Why would he want that when he’s got the real thing at home?” Steve mused. Tony frowned.

“Point,” he sighed. “It’s kind of hard to get the guy excited about Captain America merchandise anymore when he has breakfast every morning with the real thing. He’s disillusioned.”

“Yeah, I hear Captain America’s a real jerk,” Steve said wryly, “doesn’t live up to expectations at all. He’s almost worse than Iron Man.”

“You _know,_ ” Tony scowled with faux venom, “I hear they make knockoff Captain America themed sex toys that I’m _sure_ Coulson would--”

“We’re in a _kid’s store_ ,” Steve hissed at Tony, cutting him off by stepping lightly on his foot.

“Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish,” Tony smirked. “We’ll find Coulson something else. I wouldn’t give _your_ present away.”

Tony managed to get a head start out of the store before Steve screwed his jaw back on and caught up with him in time to head next door to Perfume Palace.

“Cologne for Sam and perfume for Sharon, right?” Tony said as they walked into the small shop. He pulled Steve’s list out of his hands.

“Yeah, but I don’t --” Steve broke off in the middle of his sentence to sneeze violently, overwhelmed by the many scents of the shop.

“Bless you,” Tony said, doing his utmost to be polite.

“What is --?! Achoo!” Steve sneezed again, covering his mouth and nose with his elbow like the responsible and considerate citizen he was.

“Bless you,” Tony started, but sneezes come in threes, and Steve sneezed again. “Now stop,” he joked.

Steve held his nose between his fingers and glared around the store.

“It’s the damn perfume,” he swore.

“Wait, I’m sorry, allergies acting up? Mister Perfect Human Specimen? Got a little tickle, there?” Tony bit back a grin.

Steve glared. “I had asthma, you know,” he grumbled. “That isn’t funny.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the ringing in my ears from your enormous sneeze,” Tony said.

“Excuse me, may I help you?” the cashier said, walking into the store from the back room.

Steve rolled his eyes, but let Tony pick out and pay for the perfume.

“I trust your tastes,” he said, trying to cover his nose with his sleeve without being entirely obvious. He failed.

It was kind of adorable, though, Tony mused to himself as he picked out some high-end perfumes and swiped his credit card. Steve always tried to be polite, as big, beefy, and bossy as he was. It was… endearing, strangely enough, to watch him feign interest in a purple bottle shaped like a woman’s bust when he was honestly trying his hardest not to burst into more loud sneezes.

“Thanks,” Tony said, letting the guy behind the counter hand him the bag of their presents as he watched Steve out of the corner of his eye.

He walked up beside Steve and, under the guise of handing him one of his bags, grabbed his hand.

“Ready?” Tony asked.

“Finally,” Steve muttered. He looked down at Tony’s hand in his. Tony waited for the comment, Steve’s raised eyebrows as he asked him what happened to his vendetta against hand-holding, but it never came. They walked out of the shop, hand in hand, snide comments and banter set aside for once.

“Why don’t we get Phil some knitting supplies?” Steve suggested as they passed a Jo-Ann Fabric store.

“Wouldn’t a dagger be more to the point?” Tony asked.

“No,” Steve sighed. “He actually knits.”

“Coulson _knits_?” Tony said, looking horrified. “Well, I could have gone my entire life without knowing that information.”

Steve led him into the store, grabbing a basket as though he’d been there a million times. Tony followed him as he weaved around middle-aged women, grandmothers, and anime nerds looking for discounts on fabric. They headed past paints and scrapbook supplies to the yarn.

“Why does it bug you?” Steve asked. “It’s not that strange. He says it relaxes him. SHIELD isn’t exactly a low-stress workplace.”

“Just another way he knows how to kill me if I piss him off too badly,” Tony shivered. “Let’s get him some purple yarn, to match his boyfriend.”

“He knitted me a sweater,” Steve said absently, placing a few nice yarns into the basket. “Alpaca wool. You know, the dark blue one you keep stealing.”

“I do not!” Tony protested, lying through his teeth. Steve snorted and threw a kit of knitting needles and few crochet hooks into the basket.

“I found it under your pillow after I came back from my last mission,” Steve said, side-eyeing Tony with a disgustingly sappy look on his face.

“It’s not my fault you don’t look where you throw your clothes when I’m ravishing you,” Tony muttered. He picked up a package of something that looked like small blue earplugs, but with holes in the flat end, and threw them into the shopping basket. Coulson could definitely use some of those.

“Then tell me, where did those grease stains come from?” Steve said.

“You should watch what you’re doing in my workshop.”

“And the coffee spilled all over the sleeve.”

“You’re so clumsy, Steve, you can stop pretending you aren’t. We all know.”

“There was green goo, Tony, where did that even --”

“Fine, I stole your damn sweater because it smells like you and it maybe makes you look like that guy from _Pacific Rim_ , which is _really_ distracting. Happy?” Tony sighed.

Steve grinned triumphantly.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I like winning.”

“Excuse me, young man,” an old lady -- probably Steve’s contemporary, Tony figured -- said, attracting Steve’s attention. She leaned forward over her shopping cart full of bargain priced, pastel colored yarn. “You better make an honest man of him quick, before someone else snatches him up.”

Steve, to his credit, didn’t blush, but his eyebrows flew up into his hairline.

“I’d like to see them try,” he replied after a moment.

The lady chuckled behind her wrinkled hand for a moment before rolling her cart down the aisle.

Tony burst into silent laughter.

“You wouldn’t be laughing if the thought of being married to me had properly registered yet,” Steve said in his ear.

Before Tony could splutter his indignation (or horror), he was spared by his phone. The ringtone, “She’s a Genius” by Jet, rang out loud in the craft store, and Tony stopped to pull his StarkPhone out of his pocket.

“I didn’t do it, I’m out shopping with Steve,” he said by way of greeting. Steve barely glanced back at Tony, choosing instead to continue down to the end of the yarn aisle without Tony. Tony knew he hated it when he answered his phone while they were out.

“The fact that your first reaction when I call you is to say ‘I didn’t do it’ should motivate you to look more closely at your life choices,” Pepper said. “And, maybe next time, you will think twice about rearranging your schedule to skip a meeting with the Chinese shareholders.”

“Would I do that?” Tony said, voiced full of the lovable irony he knew Pepper loved. Hated. Some of both, probably.

“I had to give the presentation entirely on my own, Tony,” Pepper hissed through the phone. Tony found himself at the end of the aisle, Steve nowhere in sight. He decided to stroll down the next aisle, past paints and polymer clay, until he found Steve again.

“And you probably didn’t make a single inappropriate comment,” Tony said brightly. “I’m proud of you.”

“I’m your CEO, not your PA,” Pepper said tersely. “I shouldn’t be arranging your schedule anymore, Tony.”

Tony made it to the end of the aisle and turned down the next one, where he spotted Steve standing in front of the watercolor brushes, a box of charcoal pencils already in his hand. He barely looked up when he heard Tony approaching, disappointment clear in his posture.

“Look, Pepper,” Tony said, lowering his voice. “I fucked up.”

“Yes, you did,” she said vindictively.

“But this is something I promised Steve I’d do,” he continued, walking closer to Steve. “And he’s standing here, with the puppy dog eyes, because I’ve interrupted the past four dates we’ve had with company calls.”

“Six, but I’m not giving anyone the puppy dog eyes,” Steve said, so Pepper could hear his voice through the phone. “If you need to leave to deal with --”

“I will fly _to_ China after the holiday season,” Tony promised. Pepper snorted. “I will,” he insisted. “I’ll take Steve with me, and then he’ll force me to get actual work done. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Pepper said. “Ask Steve to make sure your fingers aren’t crossed.”

“She wants you to confirm that I’m not crossing any fingers,” Tony said, tucking his phone between his shoulder and ear and holding up both his hands for Steve to see.

Steve pulled Tony’s phone out from under his ear and took it.

“Hello, Miss Potts, this is -- yeah. Yeah. No, but he’s wearing sneakers. He’s probably crossing his toes,” Steve said, smiling at Tony as he made a face. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll have him call you later. Have a nice afternoon. Bye.” Steve hung up and passed Tony his StarkPhone.

“When you talk to Pepper, I feel like I’m about to get assigned to detention,” Tony said.

“You should probably think about why that is,” Steve said lightly, his good mood returned.

“You and Pepper are eerily alike, sometimes,” Tony shivered.

“Maybe you have a type.”

Steve led them through the checkout and back into the mall, dividing the bags from the craft store between them. He hated being handed things, but Steve was already carrying at least five bags of shoes and coffee and electronics. Tony took yet another bag and groaned.

“Are we done yet?” he complained. “How are we even getting these into the Tower without one of the many resident super-spies figuring out what we got them for Christmas?”

“I have a plan,” Steve said. Tony made him regret that statement a moment later when he began whistling ‘Star Spangled Man With A Plan.’

“One last stop left,” Steve said over Tony’s whistling. “Once we pick up Natasha’s e-reader and Jane’s --” here, Steve consulted his list, “TARDIS mug? What even is that?”

“TARDIS: Time And Relative Dimensions In Space,” Tony listed off without a second thought, and then realised -- after noticing Steve’s even more confused expression- he had just made things worse. “Okay, you remember that time we watched Back to the Future?”

“Does this have a point, Tony?”

“Yes. Maybe. Probably not.”

“Then --”

“It’s like the car from Back to the Future, except it’s bigger on the inside and --”

“Are you talking about Doctor Who?” A girl with short, straight dark hair interrupted them. She was wearing a purple shirt and an interested expression as she stared back at Tony.

“Yeah,” Tony said suspiciously as he returned the teenager’s stare. Steve continued to look as if he had no idea what was going on.

“So you don’t know what Doctor Who is, right? Where have you been for the last fifty years?” the girl asked in amazement. “It’s the longest-science fiction TV show in history!”

“Ah,” Steve mumbled.

Under his breath, Tony added, “Sorry about him, he’s just been enjoying freezer burn in the Arctic Circle for most of the last century.”

Undeterred and delighted to share her fandom with the uninitiated, the girl put one hand on her hip and began talking excitedly, saying, “It’s a fictional time machine from the classic British scifi TV show Doctor Who. It looks like a police box, but it’s bigger on the inside.”

Tony looked put out. “Come on, kid, I was just about to say that. Except in a spectacular and awesome fashion that would have made your jaw drop at my sheer brilliance.”

“I’m sorry, but you were trying to explain the TARDIS using the Delorean from _Back to the Future_?” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Really? That’s like trying to describe the _Harry Potter_ series by explaining that it’s kind of like _Wizards of Waverly Place_. You’re just going to confuse the poor man,” she said with pity, patting Steve on his very muscle-y bicep. Tony narrowed his eyes at her, but Steve just looked amused.

“They’re both wizards, just like the TARDIS and Delorean are both time machines. Wibbley-wobbley, timey wimey,” Tony said, waving the girl’s argument away with a casual flick of his hand. The teenager just rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, old man. Keep telling yourself that,” she said as she walked away. The girl gave Steve a small, friendly wave before she disappeared around the corner of the aisle.

“Did you hear that? _Old man?_ ” Tony sputtered.

“See? Not as fun when it’s done to you,” Steve lectured with a smile.

“Okay, okay,” Tony admitted. “Let’s just find the mug and the e-reader so I can have something to play with on the way home.”

“No,” Steve said sternly, “you aren’t giving it a personality. We have enough AI already. It’s just an e-reader. It’s just for reading books,” Steve tried.

“But, Steve…” Tony complained.

“Maybe we should just get her some real books by her favorite authors,” Steve said, looking around the bookstore.

“Steve, do you even know what Natasha’s favorite authors are?” Tony asked skeptically. “Have you ever seen her read a book with actual pages? Does she own any books? And, y’know, while we’re on the subject, have you ever seen her room? Because not even Jarvis knows where it is -- or if he does, he’s never told me,” Tony said.

Steve frowned in concentration, thinking about it. His forehead wrinkled adorably, with two upright lines in-between his eyebrows that Tony wanted to smooth with his thumb. He bit back the impulse and let the gears in Mr. Apple Pie’s head turn without interruption.

“No, I --” Steve froze, and Tony imagined a light bulb popping up over his head with a cartoon ‘ding.’ “-- I haven’t, to be honest.”

“Exactly, so,” Tony said, “we’ll get her an e-reader, and she can get whatever she wants. Classic Russian literature? Sure. Poetry? Fine. Comic books? Awesome. Sleazy Harlequin Romance novels? Cool.”

“A what?” Steve asked.

“Oh, we are having a very long lesson on erotica one day,” Tony sighed.

“You’re too late. Clint loaned me _Fifty Shades of Grey_ ages ago,” Steve said, a wicked expression appearing on his face again. “Tony, do they really--”

“Let’s go,” Tony said quickly, grabbing the e-reader’s box and pulling Steve away, towards his favorite part of the store -- the area dedicated to Avengers action figures and expensive legos and replica sonic screwdrivers.

“Those aren’t even books, why are they in a bookstore?” Steve frowned, steering Tony away from the toys.

He let Tony grab Jane’s TARDIS mug from the _Doctor Who_ shelf, but they made their way towards the clearance shelves, next to the magazines. 

Maybe it was luck, or perhaps Steve’s old-fashioned habits were rubbing off on him, but Tony stopped with Steve to look at the different books on the shelves.

A sepia-colored book with the image of Captain America holding aloft his shield with a group of grim-looking soldiers in uniform flanked him in either side, but Steve didn’t seem to notice it. The title read, _The GI’s Dictionary: the Slang of America’s Greatest Generation_. Tony picked it up immediately, and started paging through the book.

“Hey, cookie, am I getting under your skin?” Tony asked Steve, liberally using words from the vocabulary book.

Steve was distracted, flipping through a copy of the President’s autobiography.

“Cool down, Tony, I just want to look at this,” he said absentmindedly.

Put off, Tony paged through the book and tried again.

“No need to ‘snap your cap,’” he muttered.

“Don’t be a yuck, Tony,” Steve said again, not tearing his eyes from the page.

Tony walked away, pacing up and down the aisle as he flipped through the book, until he found the perfect phrase. Hiding his face with the book, Tony walked up to Steve.

“Wow, you’re a dreamboat,” he said, drawing his voice up high and flirty. “Hey there, sugar, are you rationed?”

“Sorry, I’m stuck on someone else,” Steve said automatically. He froze when he looked up and saw Tony giggling from behind _The GI’s Dictionary._ His jaw set in a scowl for a moment, and then Tony recognized a familiar mischievous glint in his eye.

“Well, beat me daddy eight to the bar!” Steve said, slapping himself on the forehead. “I should bust your chops for that cock-eyed scam. I bet you think you’re a real hard-boiled, hotsy-totsy old wolf, don’t ya. But you’re just another glitterati, a grandstanding pistol. And haven’t I just run out of gas.”

Tony stared at Steve in shock, but he was impressed despite himself.

“I have no idea what you just said,” Tony replied weakly, “but it was kind of hot.”

“No fooling?” Steve laughed, then lowered his voice to say, “I’ll have to remember that for later.”

“Well, that’s it, I’m buying this book,” Tony said stubbornly, clutching the book to his chest. “You couldn’t stop me if you tried. And I encourage you to try, wholeheartedly.”

“Maybe we should try to find our last present,” Steve sighed, looking down at his list and utterly ruining the mood with his one track mind.

“Who’s left?” Tony groaned. “Can’t we just get another Starbucks gift card for them?”

“It’s Bucky, and he hates their coffee,” Steve sighs. “I can’t get him a gift card, I don’t think he likes to read much, and he hates gifts that aren’t practical.” Steve sighs. “He always was hard to shop for.”

“What do you get the guy who has nothing and doesn’t want anything?” Tony mused. “I mean, _I_ may be hard to shop for, but he takes the cake.”

“Don’t worry, I had a few ideas,” Steve said. “The Christmas list says...” Steve trailed off and sighed loudly. Tony peered over Steve’s shoulder to read the list.. The bottom of the list had been marred by a coffee spill, the stain blurring the ink where Steve had written the name of Bucky’s gift.

“What? That he’s been naughty this year? He gets coal in his stocking?” Tony patted Steve on the arm to comfort him.

“Last Christmas Bucky wasn’t able to celebrate with us, since he was on a mission with Natasha. I just want this Christmas to be special -- I want him to know we haven’t forgotten him,” Steve said sadly.

“Except we kinda did,” Tony pointed out.

“Tony,” Steve growled.

“Wait!” Tony said. “I have an idea!”

He nearly ran out of the store before Steve reminded him that they had to pay for their books before they could leave. By the time they finished paying for the gifts, Tony was beat. Shopping was strangely exhausting.

“Now, what did you say we should get Bucky?” Steve asked finally, looking skeptically at Tony.

“A plant,” Tony announced proudly.

“What?” Steve blinked.

“One of those tiny Christmas trees! It’s perfect,” Tony said, smiling. “It’s cute, it’s thoughtful, and anyone would love it.”

“I don’t think Bucky would,” Steve frowned.

“Do you have any better ideas?” Tony said, looking over at Steve.

“No,” Steve sighed in surrender. “But where are we going to find one of those?” he asked.

“It’s a mall. They have everything here,” Tony said confidently. He didn’t mention that he had spotted a stall selling mini pine trees exactly like the ones he had described to Steve on the way in. But he would let Steve be surprised.

After they had walked all the way across the mall, Steve had slowed his pace. “Tony,” he said doubtfully, “I don’t think we’re going to find --”

At that moment, the stall came into sight, the sign emblazoned with the words ‘Flora’s Fauna’ in big green letters on the stall’s roof. Tony, grinning widely, turned back to look at Steve.

“What were you saying about my finding skills? Because, if I’m correct, this is fine establishment sells adorable pine trees,” Tony said arrogantly.

“I don’t like your attitude, soldier,” Steve replied.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me change it?” Tony shot back.

Steve stepped closer, invading Tony’s personal space. With an eyebrow raised in challenge, he inched his face down towards Tony’s.

“I think I might,” Steve said. Tony looked into his eyes, holding himself back in a final act of defiance, his resistance waning. _To hell with it,_ Tony thought, and moved in to --

“Hello, would you gentlemen be interested in one of our quality Norfolk Island Pines?” an all-too cheerful salesperson interrupted them.

They broke apart, Steve laughing as Tony huffed and crossed his arms petulantly.

“I’ll take one,” Steve said, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. Tony waited impatiently as he paid the man for the tiny potted pine tree, and then tilted his head to the side and smiled.

“Are we done now?” he asked. “Can we go home?”

“Yes, Tony,” Steve sighed fondly, gathering up all of their bags. “If I recall correctly, I owe you…”

They walked out of the mall together, carrying their Christmas shopping, Tony pretending like he wasn’t holding Steve’s hand as they made their way out into the snowy parking lot. The wind was chilly and sharp as a knife. Tony’s coat and sweater suddenly didn’t seem like enough protection from the winter.

He hurried with Steve to the car and they threw the presents in the backseat, careful not to break anything. Slamming the doors shut, Steve opened Tony’s door for him, but stopped him from sliding into the passenger seat with his fingers looped through the belt loops on Tony’s jeans.

“Now, was that so bad?” Steve murmured in Tony’s ear before he slid into the passenger seat of the car.

“Yes,” Tony said, but he leaned up to kiss Steve anyways, and they kissed in the parking lot until the tips of their ears went numb from the cold.

*

*

*

*

*

**December 25th, Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters**

The X-Men sat around the giant Christmas tree, passing around presents wrapped in shining wrapping paper and watching as each person opened their gifts.

“It’s your turn, Scott,” Storm said, passing a present wrapped neatly in gold paper to Scott Summers.

“It’s from Logan,” Scott said, reading the tag in surprise. They all turned to look at Wolverine, who sat in a corner of the room, smoking a cigar. “That’s very generous of you, Logan,” Scott said awkwardly. Logan grunted in response.

Scott tore open the present, revealing a set of lacy red lingerie.

He swallowed, holding the undergarments up for a moment before dropping them. Scott glared through his sunglasses at the room at the stifled giggles that followed, then turned to Logan.

“What the hell are these for?” he asked.

Logan said around his cigar, “That’s yer new uniform.”

_Fin._


End file.
